


we don't need witnesses

by purplehaze



Series: it's all circumstantial [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, side auston/freddie lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-05 07:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12789447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplehaze/pseuds/purplehaze
Summary: Auston goes on a blind date, and Mitch decides he deserves a promotion.





	we don't need witnesses

**Author's Note:**

> see end notes for a mini warning
> 
>  
> 
> [auston matthews](https://tittyout2.tumblr.com/post/156252811908/i-didnt-fall-in-love-with-you-i-walked-into-love)

“I have eyes on the suspect,” Mitch says. He casually checks his watch and takes a sip of his very bitter coffee, Naz needs to realize not everyone drinks their coffee black. “Reemer?”

“Eyes on Richard,” Reemer confirms.

“Suspect is walking toward the parking lot,” Mitch says. “Should I follow?”

“Stay where you are,” Mo says, very loudly and it seems like he’s leaning into the mic or something. Mitch would tease him about being a young guy who’s awful with technology, but it’s obviously not the right time. But, he’s dying to know what Auston’s face looks like in the van.

“My coffee’s cold,” Mitch says.

“Stop complaining,” Naz says.

“Marner you look like you’re talking to yourself,” Auston says, and Mitch grins.

“I’m talking to you, actually,” Mitch says.

“Are you, though?” Auston asks. “Because you look like you’re sitting by yourself.”

“Both of you shut the fuck up,” Gards spits. “Children.”

“Suspect has approached,” Reemer says, and Mitch sits a little bit straighter.

They hear Richard’s voice. He’s speaking frantically as they instructed him to, telling the suspect that the police think it’s him who shot the supplier and the suspect is now shushing him, they’re in a public place or whatever the fuck. They need the suspect to give the words they want to hear, and it’s taking a while.

“Richard, tell him you’ll take the fall, but you need a good confession,” Mo says.

“Fine,” Richard says, voice shaky. “Just—tell me what the fuck went down. You just came home with a bunch of money, and now I’m in shit.”

Mitch is waiting for the, ‘I shot him’ before he gets up from the bench he’s been sitting on, already walking before Mo’s cue to move in. Someone shouts hands up, and the suspects runs right into Mitch, and Mitch loses his balance, but not taking the suspect down with him.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” Mitch groans. He’s pretty sure there’s gravel in his hair.

“Hands behind your back!” Naz shouts and the suspect is complaining about how he broke his arm or something, but Mitch is positive that he bruised his hip, so everyone loses.

Back at the station, Mo lets Auston and Mitch interview the suspect. It was Auston who led the investigation, something he never usually does, so of course, Mitch will be by his side to interview.

“Hey, Tom,” Mitch says, taking a seat. He gestures between himself and Auston. “I’m detective Marner. That’s Matthews, right beside me.”

Tom doesn’t say anything, of course, and Mitch loves this. When the case is closed, and the suspect doesn’t know. It’s unfortunate, though, the lives are lost in the processed.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Auston asks.

“Nope,” Tom says.

“You murdered a teenage girl,” Mitch says. “The one you buy drugs from?”

Tom doesn’t hesitate. “Who?”

“The one you told your buddy you were gonna rip off,” Mitch says slowly. “Copying that?”

Tom opens his mouth, but Auston intercepts, “You may have known each other for years, but he’s not going to jail for you.”

“I want a lawyer,” Tom says finally, and Mitch smiles.

“You’re going to need one,” Mitch says. “Don’t worry; we’ve got enough to charge you.”

Mitch can’t help but high five Auston as soon as the door to the interview room closes behind them. This is Auston’s first time leading an investigation, while Mitch has done plenty, Auston never seemed keen on doing any, letting his teammates bask in the spotlight.

“Dude, that was like the smoothest case ever,” Mitch says. He’s happy as hell, and although it’s sad, a young girl is gone, and her parents are going to miss her, they’ve done a little bit of justice, and maybe they can help her parents sleep at night.

“Dude, I bet Mo’s gonna be so proud of you,” Mitch says.

“Thanks, Mom,” Auston snorts.

“I’m glad to have you as my partner,” Mitch says.

Auston rolls his eyes. “You only say that when I help you get an arrest under your belt.”

“Not true,” Mitch says. “I like having you near me all the time.”  
—  
About two weeks ago, Mitch realized that he might have some sort of feelings for his partner. It’s all good, though, Mitch understands it’s a horrible idea and can affect their week, and has limited his time spent with Auston in bed to only once a week. Auston has yet to make a complaint about it, so they’re in the clear.

Mitch is currently trying to his best to beat Jake’s score in solitaire, pointedly avoiding practicing what he’s going to say at the date where he was called in to testify as a witness for some murder that he and Naz investigated a couple of months ago. The crown attorney was stern with telling Mitch to go over what they practiced as if she knew he wasn’t going to do it.

“Mats,” Willy calls. “You busy this Friday?”

Mitch looks up, Willy’s currently twirling in his chair, and Auston’s looking at Mitch. Mitch shrugs. They do have plans to marathon documentaries on Netflix and beat the record of how many times they can fuck in one night, but Willy doesn’t need to know.

“Not doing anything,” Auston says. “Might Skype, my mom, but that’s it, really.”

“You know Carrick from the drug squad?” Willy asks. “Connor Carrick?”

“Yes,” Auston says. “He has a wonderful fiancée.”

“I know that,” Willy says. “But his friend is single.”

There’s a pause in the conversation that causes Mitch to look up from his phone. Auston is squinting at Willy. “Wait, you want me to go on a date with a guy you’ve never met.”

“We met at a bar last week!” Willy protests.

“So you were drunk when you met him,” Auston says flat.

“No,” Willy says. “I remember the conversation. It was informative. He’s into baseball, like you.”

“I _played_ baseball, I don’t watch it like that,” Auston clarifies. “I prefer basketball.”

“Fine. You’re both into sports,” Willy amends his statement. “Will you go on a date with him? Please?”

Mitch barks out in laughter. He’s about to comment how that is not at all a convincing way to get someone to go on a date with another person, but Auston just shrugs and says, “Sure.”

“Wait, what?” Mitch frowns. “Why?”

“I’ve been out of the game too long,” Auston says. “Think it’s time.”

“So you’re-- what, gonna settle down at twenty-seven?” Mitch scoffs.

Auston frowns. “No, I’d like someone who I enjoy being around, who also provides me sex and comfort when I’m sad.”

Willy looks between the two men with a look that Mitch can’t read, his lips are pressed together, and it’s freaking Mitch out.

“Not everyone wants to be single, Mitch,” Willy finally says.

“You don’t even know the guy,” Mitch says. “What if he’s an asshole? Willy, you met him once.”

“Okay,” Willy huffs. “Connor’s probably bored out his mind; I’ll text him.”

“I wish I were part of the drug squad,” Auston says. “They have pizza parties.”

“Sounds hardcore,” Mitch agrees solemnly. “But we have casual Fridays. And solve like, fucked up murders.”

“Carrick’s coming up with his partner, Zaitsev,” Willy informs the two. “And casual Fridays are boring if you can’t wear open-toed shoes.”

“You planning to do a shootout in sandals, William?” Mitch asks.

“So this is what you guys do in SCI?” Connor’s voice comes from the top of the stairs. “There’s gum on the bottom of your shoes, Matthews.”

Auston pulls his feet quickly from where they were resting off his desk. He groans. “These are new Jordan’s.”

Connor laughs. “So Nylander said you needed the down low on Freddie.”

“I mean, Marner more like,” Auston smiles. “He’s going all best friend on me. He’s scared of blind dates.”

“Besty, huh,” Connor says, all cryptic for no reason. Then he seems to realize his partner beside him. “Guys, this is Zaitsev, he just transferred from the gang task force.”

“Whoa,” Mitch says, getting up from his seat to walk over and shake Zaitsev’s hand. “Welcome to the station, man.”

“Thanks,” Zaitsev says. “Heard good things.”

Mitch doubts that. He thinks if the Toronto PD could give out awards for being a horrible cop, their precinct would be labeled as the City’s Laziest Precinct, with Capt. Morgan Rielly’s SCI unit being the sole reason for the award. He smiles, nonetheless.

“But, tell us about your friend,” Willy says once introductions are out the way. “He’s tall, right?”

“You could say that, yeah,” Connor laughs, taking a seat.

“I must’ve been seriously drunk, then,” Willy asks. “I don’t remember, much.”

“You were,” Connor confirms. “But, uh, Freddie’s actually chill. He’s kind of quiet at first.”

“What does he do?” Mitch asks.

“He’s an assistant crown attorney,” Connor says. “For Hamilton.”

“Oh, right,” Mitch asks, making a show of rolling his eyes. “Those guys never have any emotion.”

Connor looks pointedly at Mitch. “No, Freddie’s pretty emotional. He’s just super intense about his job.”

“That sounds like me,” Auston says. “Don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing.”

“We’ll see,” Connor says. “So you’re down to meet him, right?”

“Yeah,” Auston smiles. “Can I see a picture first, though? I don’t trust Willy. Have you seen his boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Willy doesn’t whine at all. “And don’t be rude. You’re balding.”

“He will be soon,” Mitch pipes in. “Just in time for the Christmas party.”

“Stay out of my dating life,” Willy snipes. “I already told you it’s not going to happen.”

Connor clears his throat awkwardly. “We don’t fight nearly as much as this downstairs.”

“We let it all out when Mo and Jake aren’t here,” Auston explains. “Pent-up emotions, you know?”

“Where are they?” Connor asks. He seems to remember Auston’s question amid the mess, because he slides his phone over to Auston.

“They usually leave first thing in the morning once a week,” Willy explains. “Last time Jake said they went to do shooting drills.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re trying to adopt,” Mitch says.

Connor’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“Basic detective work,” Mitch shrugs. “In the morning, Mo’s in the worst fucking mood, then, he takes Jake with him to do, like, important work or whatever and Mo comes back, like happy as hell.”

“One plus one equals two,” Connor agrees.

“He’s not bad,” Auston says, abruptly redirecting the conversation. “Not my type, but it’s always good to try something new.”

Connor looks at Auston quizzically. “What’s your type, Matthews?”

Auston seems to wipe the expression off his face, shrugging nonchalantly. “I don’t have one. Just wanted to sound cool.”

He’s without a doubt lying. Auston’s dated a few guys in the three years that Mitch has known him. They’ve all been brunets, except for Auston’s ex-boyfriend that he’d already been with when Mitch first met him. He was a dirty blonde. The team even teases him about it when Auston feels like he wants to tell the team he’s seeing someone new. Auston has a thing for brunets, and he can’t hide it from Mitch. They’re like, best friends and shit.

Mitch knows that just because Auston only dates brunets and that Mitch is a brunet himself doesn’t really mean anything. Auston’s a pretty straight up dude and will tell someone how it is without caring for the consequences. Mitch knows if Auston wanted more with him, he’d have said something by now.

And Mitch is completely okay with that. They’re meant to be friends, and he’s accepted his fate.

Mitch doesn’t say anything because he’s a good friend and would never embarrass Auston like that. He wants Auston’s happiness.

“Can I give Freddie your number?” Connor asks.

“Yeah,” Auston says. “Just let him know if it takes me two days to get back to him, it’s not because I’m not interested.”

“I feel that,” Connor says, then his phone beeps. “Looks like the Sarge is calling us. We got a case.”

“Please send one to us,” Willy whines. “It’s a fucking desert over here.”

“You should’ve thought of that before taking this job,” Connor laughs. “See you guys Friday, night.”

When Connor’s gone, and Auston leaves to take a phone call from his younger sister, Willy calls Mitch over to his desk.

“What are you doing?” Willy hisses.

“What are you talking about?” Mitch frowns.

“If you’re not going to tell Matthews how you feel don’t block his chances at being happy,” Willy says.

Mitch scoffs. “Fuck you. Sorry I care about my friend and don’t want him going out with a complete stranger. You’re a detective you should be as cautious as me.”

“He’s not a complete stranger, and unless Connor is friends with a serial killer, Auston will be fine,” Willy says. “Seriously, Mitch. It’s not fair to both of you.”

Mitch already knows the answer, but asks anyway. “What do you mean by ‘both of us’?”

“I know you like him,” Willy says. “It’s pretty obvious.”

“And clearly I’m not trying to ruin our friendship by dating him,” Mitch says. “Please don’t scold me for something you don’t know about.”

“Okay,” Willy says, with his hands up. “I know we’re not… close, really. But I care about you.”

Mitch kicks at Willy’s right knee in an attempt of intimacy. “I care about you, too, man. Which is why you gotta ask Kapanen out.”

“Okay,” Willy says, and Mitch blinks.

“Really?” Mitch almost jumps out of his seat. “You will?”

“I will,” Willy says. “He told me he liked me.”

“Oh shit,” Mitch grins. It’s like they’re in sixth grade, but he doesn’t care. He’s excited about this.

“He was drunk, but,” Willy shrugs. “It still counts, right?”

Mitch nods, although he’s never been in this situation at all. “I never lie when I’m drunk.”

“I don’t believe you,” Willy smiles. “But okay.”

“Dude, I’m the master of hooking up while shit faced,” Mitch explains. “And I’ve never regretted it once. They’ve all been hot.”

+++

Later that day, Mitch is in Auston’s car, and Auston’s actually letting Mitch use the stereo instead of the two of them having to listen to the remainder of Auston’s ‘Morning Grind’ playlist. It’s nice, maybe Auston will let him choose what to have for dinner as well. Mitch decides that since Auston’s in a good mood, he can probably ask about the date.

“So you’re going on that date with the hot shot lawyer, huh?” Mitch says.

Auston snorts. “We don’t know if he’s a hot shot, yet.”

“Oh, please,” Mitch waves a hand. “If I had that job, I’d be the biggest asshole ever.”

“With the way you are now, I definitely wouldn’t want to see that,” Auston says.

“Ha-ha,” Mitch rolls his eyes.

“But, if he is a hotshot,” Auston grins. “Do you think our first date will be me watching his court proceeding?”

“Oh yeah,” Mitch nods seriously. “And if he loses, he’ll blame the justice system.”

Auston laughs at that. “Coming over to my place, right?”

“Yeah,” Mitch says.

“Awesome,” Auston says. “OKC is playing, though, so that’s gotta get out of the way first.”

“The fact that you pay for out of market games is beyond me,” Mitch laughs. “And it’s the preseason.”

“Sorry, I didn’t grow up to appreciate Hockey Night in Canada,” Auston says.

“You still don’t appreciate it,” Mitch grumbles, remembering Auston’s downright refusal to watch a hockey game, only looking up from his phone when Arizona scored.

“Dude, in Arizona, the only sport I thought I could make it into was basketball or baseball,” Auston says. “Especially when you’re brown.”

Mitch nods at that. He understands they’re almost from two different worlds, Auston was never born with hockey shoved down his throat like Mitch and all the other kids from the GTA were, and even if you’re not in the NHL, you know someone who is.

The drive continues with Mitch and Auston bickering with each other on various subjects.

When they finally get into Auston’s loft, which damn Auston puts in that overtime, Mitch doesn’t waste any time ignoring Auston’s shoe rack and flinging his shoes off wherever they plan to go.

“I feel sorry for whoever you marry,” Auston chuckles.

On any other day, maybe Mitch would laugh at that, but he feels a little uncomfortable knowing the circumstances.

“What are you planning on cooking for dinner?” Mitch asks.

Auston shrugs. “Pasta?” And then in reaction to Mitch’s face, “Or we can order pizza, I guess?”

“Pizza sounds good,” Mitch smiles.

Auston’s not bad of a cook, really. He can whip up a mean Kraft Dinner. He can make all sorts of Mexican foods, with thorough instructions from his mom and a six out of ten success rate, but Mitch is particular about his pasta and God, he doesn’t want to be traumatized.

“I’m gonna go change,” Auston says. “If I don’t come out of my room in fifteen minutes, I’m probably sleeping so go ahead and order for us.”

“Didn’t get sleep last night?” Mitch asks.

“I slept nine hours, for your information,” Auston says. “But maybe I’m catching up on this year’s lack of sleep.”

Mitch goes ahead and starts ordering the pizza; he ignores Auston’s past complaints about not wanting onions on his pizza and orders them on the whole.

Auston emerges about thirteen minutes later, not that Mitch was counting. He's dressed in a white tee and grey sweats, and his hair’s a little mussed from putting on a t-shirt. He looks all kinds of soft. Auston’s leaning against the wall of his hallway, across from the kitchen and he’s got a funny look on his face, like half confused and half amused. Mitch throws Auston a questioning look, and Auston shows Mitch his phone screen from across the room.

“I may have 20/20 vision, but I can’t see that far,” Mitch jokes.

“Freddie texted me,” Auston says.

Mitch sits up a little straighter from his seat on Auston’s island stool. “What’d he say?”

“‘Had a tough court hearing today, but was glad to see from Cee that you found me attractive enough to slide your number.’” Auston reads. “Oh and, ‘This is Frederik. Andersen. Am I doing this right?’”

Mitch can’t help it. “Lame. Also, told you he’d be a hotshot.”

“Better than a ‘wyd’ text made by a dude in his thirties at 3 am,” Auston says. “I’ll reply tomorrow, with like, hey.”

“Yeah,” Mitch agrees even though Auston has such stupid logic when it comes to dating. “Keep him on his toes.”

They watch a bit of MLS, and MLB updates and Mitch even follows along a little bit to the NFL. The pizza comes, and Auston almost calls the company back to complain about messing up the topping portions until Mitch manages to complete arrest his laughter to explain there was no mistake.

“Don't you have a court case tomorrow?” Auston asks, watching (judgingly) as Mitch takes his fourth slice. Mitch forgot his lunch, okay.

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “Wanna get it over with so bad.”

“Let’s look at the script you have to go over,” Auston suggests, and god, he’s such a nerd sometimes.

Mitch pulls the two sheets of paper from out of his backpack and hands it over to Auston.

“When’s Naz testifying?” Auston asks, carefully examining each word on the sheet.

“Day after me,” Mitch says.

Auston hums in response as he flips to the back of the second sheet and pauses, forehead creasing. “Oh.”

“What?” Mitch leans forward, into Auston to look at the paper as well. It’s messy scrawl, but it’s a phone number, presumably the counselor’s. “Oh.”

Auston laughs, a bit awkwardly to say. “You gonna call her?”

“Dude, no,” Mitch says. “It says, call _me if you need any more clarification_.”

“And that’s clearly bullshit,” Auston says. “You know I don’t care, right?”

That could mean a lot of things. ‘I don’t care’ who Mitch fucks in terms of ‘we're not dating.’ Maybe. Mitch doesn’t really understand Auston’s vague phrases.

When Mitch doesn’t respond, Auston continues. “I’m not that kinda guy that like, shames you.”

“I know,” Mitch says. He’s had partners in the past who pretended as if Mitch being bi wasn’t a problem with them, but somehow it always ended up being a counterpoint in an argument or the reason Mitch gets dumped on New Year’s Eve after two years. But Mitch doesn’t dwell.

And anyway, Mitch knows Auston would never.

“But I’d definitely tell you if I was interested in her,” Mitch lies.

“Yeah, for sure,” Auston says, and he doesn’t really seem like he believes it, but drops the topic altogether.

They don’t fuck that night, Mitch makes up a lie about a stomach ache from the takeout, but Auston still forces Mitch to sleep on the couch, in case he needs someone there to help up.

Mitch wakes up to the smell of pancakes which, wow. Auston’s in a real good mood. He tells Mitch that he ended up texting Freddie back earlier than expected and the two ended up messaging each other back and forth until 2 am.

Mitch is happy to see Auston’s so happy. Not that he’s depressed or anything, but he tends to keep that side of him behind closed doors. On the other, it’s a bummer that he’s not even met the dude and he’s already making Auston happier than Mitch ever could.

Mitch doesn’t necessarily believe in destiny or whatever but maybe this is it. The universe is conspiring to keep them apart as some sort of karma that Mitch deserves for whatever the fuck he did in college maybe.

“We’re gonna be late, so you can borrow my dress shirt,” Auston says.

“I’m going to be drowning in it, dude,” Mitch says and he’s not even exaggerating. He’s worn Auston’s shirts plenty of times after they’ve fucked and showered and Mitch forgot to bring clothes. Auston’s much larger than him, width and height. Not that Mitch is really complaining. He loves it when they’re in bed. But maybe at work, it might be a little different, looks from Willy and all.

“Don’t worry about it,” Auston says. “My mom came up and did laundry once, put my suits in the dryer. There’s some that have shrunk to toddler size.”

Mitch squints. “Okay, fuck you. It’s easier for me to move in a creaky house with a suspect making minimal noise.”

Auston winks because he knows he’s won this round of bickering and has nothing else to say.

Mitch hopes no one notices he’s wearing the same pants from yesterday and Auston’s fancy but casual shirt on casual Friday.

It’s around 3 pm when Mitch notices that Auston’s frowning at his phone. He rarely uses his phone from nine to five, a rare thing and Mitch is pretty sure Auston has been staring at his phone for more than twenty minutes.

Mitch throws a balled up post-it note at him. “What’s up?”

“My date’s canceled,” Auston says. “Freddie doesn’t think he’ll make it to Toronto before nine. Swamped with work.”

“That, uh, that sucks,” Mitch says. “So you’re free tonight, then?”

“Guess so,” Auston says.

It kind of stings, seeing Auston in his own version of being upset. It’s not necessarily obvious, but he’s more quiet than usual. He’s never been like this over someone he sees, not in front of Mitch at least. But like, Mitch needs to get over it.

“Why don’t you go to him?” Willy suggests. Out of nowhere. Mitch didn’t even know he’d been listening to the conversation. When Mitch looks to him, he’s half typing into whatever document he’s got open on his desk top and half bending his neck to clearly try to listen to Auston and Mitch’s conversation.

“I don’t know,” Auston bites his lip. “It kind of sounds like an ‘I don’t want to hang out’ excuse.”

“Yeah, and you don’t want to drive forty-five minutes to get dumped,” Mitch says, and when Willy throws in a look, he adds, “But you never know.”

“What’s the worse that can happen?” Auston shrugs. “Obviously lose gas money.”

“Gas money is no joke,” Mo says entering the room. “I want all of you to finish that report before you go to your love meetings.”

“ _Love meetings_?” Mitch asks with a grin. “Surely you’d know about those, sir.”

“Shut your mouth, Marner,” Mo says before closing his office door behind him.

“I haven’t even started my report,” Naz says from the other side of the room. “Anyone actually remember the case?”

“I do,” Mitch smiles. “Auston’s first time leading an investigation.”

Auston rolls his eyes. “If you’re gonna be like this every time I do, I’m switching units.”

“You love the praise,” Mitch says.

+++  
When Mitch gets home, he sees that Willy’s made a group chat for work and of course it’s centering around Auston’s first date. It’s like he’s sixteen or something.

 **Willy** : _how’s the date!!!_  
**Mats** : _I’ve barely left_ toronto _._  
**Willy** : _don’t text and drive -_-_

Mitch checks and barely of the guys have read it, probably on their way homes still due to traffic. Mitch shrugs. He decides that he needs some ‘me time’ and that me time is re-runs of Forensic Files and a game of the Argonauts losing until he falls asleep on his couch.

When he wakes up, it’s to like, almost a hundred text messages. He hates group chats. With a passion.

He manages to sift through some of them and find anyone else that messaged him. His mom, his brother, an old friend from high school (that one he’s happy about) and Auston. He opens Auston’s messages, they’re very short and just say: _date went great, he loves Chinese food._

 _That’s good!_ , Mitch texts back. He wishes Freddie hated Chinese food or something.

Mitch sort of feels empty. He knows it’s only the first date but now his best friend is doing other shit, and it’s making Mitch realize how boring his life is. Most of his friends from high school and college moved out of Toronto, in Edmonton or Arizona, random places like that. It makes him realize how much time he dedicated to being around Auston and he can’t believe he didn’t realize how he felt sooner.

He’s going to the gym today. Yep. He does physicals all the time, but the gym is better.

There’s a gym in his condo, so he’s not going far. It’s just—the only time he stepped foot in it was when his real estate agent was showing him around the building. He hates being those guys who don’t know their way around a gym.

It’s full, because of course, it is, it’s 10 am on a Saturday, and people have brunches to go to. He manages to find a treadmill, at the very back.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, though. It’s all buttons, and no words and someone could seriously hurt themselves. Mitch should talk to the concierge about it.

“Need help?” A voice appears.

Mitch turns, and it’s a woman not too much shorter than him, looking at Mitch expectantly.

“I do, actually,” Mitch says. “How do I get this thing in like, jogging mode?”

She laughs. “Press the green button, it’ll get you at walking pace, and if you want to go faster, then you press the arrows.”

“Oh, damn,” Mitch says. “Thanks, uh—“

“Alina,” Alina says. “No problem.”

Mitch finally takes her in. She’s gorgeous. Short black hair tied up and all.

“Is this the part where you ask for my number?” Alina interrupts Mitch’s thoughts.

“If it’s okay with you?” Mitch smiles.

Alina rolls her eyes. “Sure.” She pulls out her phone and opens it to where her number is, and Mitch quickly types it out.

“I’ll text you after all this,” Mitch gestures around the gym.

“I’ll be waiting,” Alina says and walks her way toward the weights and Mitch can’t help if he watches.

When Mitch gets back from the gym, there’s a message from Auston: _he said he’s gonna never make me drive to Hamilton again lol._

 _Gentleman_ , Mitch writes back. He hopes Auston can read his dryness over text.

Auston reads and doesn’t reply.  
+++  
It’s Monday, and Mitch spent the weekend watching Netflix and cleaning his guest room that no one genuinely uses besides his mom. It’s amazing how much dust collects in a place that never gets used. He didn’t message Alina, and he doesn’t really plan to, and he just hope that he doesn’t ever run into her at the condo. Over the weekend, Mitch realized, he’s almost thirty, and he needs to get his fucking life together, move on, do something.

When he gets to work, he sees Willy sitting on the edge of Auston’s desk with the biggest grin on his face.

“Marns,” Willy yells at nine in the morning. “I told you guys I was the world’s best wingman.”

“You didn’t say that, but okay,” Mitch says.

“In 2017, who clicks on the first date,” Willy asks.

“It’s actually the third date you have to worry about,” Mitch points out. “Their reaction if you don’t put out on the third date says it all.”

“You put out on the first date,” Auston says.

“I haven’t been on a date in years,” Mitch says. “So that doesn’t count.”

“How do I become you?” Willy asks, with genuine awe. Mitch is amazed, too.  
“Is the captain here?” Mitch asks.

“Yep,” Willy nods. “But the door’s been closed, so I don’t know if he’s in a good mood or not.”

“I’ve got to talk to him,” Mitch says, before setting his keys down on his desk.

“About what?” Auston asks.

“Nothing important,” Mitch shrugs. “I’ll, uh, I’ll tell you later.”

The rest of the morning goes by slowly, considering there’s no case, besides a child calling Mitch’s number and asking if it was 911, his brother stole his toy. It was a pleasant conversation; Mitch put it on speaker so Willy and Auston could hear.

Jake, Naz, and James come into work at their respective times, and each ask Auston about his date with the lawyer. Mitch has to hear the story _three times_.

Here’s how it went, apparently: Auston drove to Hamilton, took him an hour. He went to the courthouse that Freddie was working a case in, surprised him with Chinese takeout (Auston is so cheesy, Mitch is jealous). Auston said it was one of the better dates he’s had and he doesn’t kiss and tell.

Mitch doesn’t bother sharing his weekend because he basically did nothing and anyway, Auston’s happiness is more important.

Mitch gets up while the squad is all discussing their weekends, and knocks on the captain’s office door.

“Come in,” Mo says.

Mitch opens the door slightly, enough so that his body can slide in. “Hey, boss.”

“What’s up,” Mo says. He’s signing papers or something important, so he doesn’t even look up at Mitch.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Mitch says.

Mo hums and Mitch continues, “I think I deserve a promotion.”

“Oh?” Mo says. He doesn’t sound convinced, but Mitch tries not to get discouraged.

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “I was just wondering if you could put in a good word for me.”

Mo looks up, and when Mitch looks at his face, he’s frowning. “You want to take the Sergeant’s interview?”

“Yes,” Mitch says slowly. “That’s what I wanted the promotion for.”

Mo’s face seems to relax, and Mitch is relieved, he didn’t realize it’d be this easy. “Nope.”

Mitch blinks. “Why not?”

“I don’t think you’re ready,” Mo says.

“I have lead more investigations than anyone in this squad, and I have more arrests under my belt than half the guys,” Mitch frowns.

“And I’m proud of that,” Mo says. “But you’re young, why don’t you wait it out?”

“Young people can be sergeants.”

Mo smiles. “I know that. You’re just—is this some competition between you and Matthews?”

“No,” Mitch grits his teeth. “I’m bored. I want something more.”

“You’re bored,” Mo repeats. “This is why I said no, you’re immature.”

“How?” Mitch stands up.

“As your superior, I’m telling you--you're not ready, and you refuse to respect my answer,” Mo explains. “That’s why you’re not ready. And don’t think if Matthews comes in that I wouldn’t say the same thing.”

“It’s not about Matthews,” Mitch says. “I just want my life to have more substance.”

“You’re a good cop, Mitch,” Mo says. “Don’t think because I’m saying this you’re not the good police.”

“Thanks,” Mitch says. “I’m going to take the interview whether you put a good word in or not.”

Mo raises his brows. “Okay. You can leave now, I’ve got a case to present.”

Mitch doesn’t stomp his way back to his desk, but he’s close to doing so.

It was dumb, but Mitch is stubborn, and he’s not going to make it seem like this isn’t important to him by not going through with it.  
+++  
Two weeks later, and Mitch has rearranged his condo, got the inside of his car cleaned, set up an appointment with the police chief and finished The Office. He’s hung out with Auston a few times, and they’ve fucked once— on Auston’s birthday.

Auston’s been on three dates with Freddie.

Mitch hasn’t opened the study guide for the Sergeant’s interview.

“So, new case,” Mo says, erasing the whiteboard from last week’s game plan. “Armed robbery in Forrest Hill.”

“So, a couple was robbed at gunpoint by two men who were in ski masks, and they took a bunch of valuable paintings, jewelry, that’s it.”

“No money?” Naz asks. “That’s the first thing they usually go for.”

“Thought that was strange too,” Mo says. “This is our main focus until a murder comes up, so put other cases aside.”

Jake stands up. “So, I decided to switch up a little bit. Kadri with Nylander, van Riemsdyk, you and Mats and Marner, you’re with me.”

“Uh, why?” Willy says aloud.

“Because we need new faces,” Mo says. “Aren’t you happy you don’t have to work with the Sarge?”

Willy looks between Gards and Mo anxiously. It’s clearly a trick question, and Mitch hopes he doesn’t seriously answer it. Willy shrugs instead, and Mo smiles.

“Okay, Gards and Marns, you guys up first, go talk to the couple, try to see if they have more to say,” Mo says. “Aus, Reemer, tech’s got the tape, see if you can catch any faces or other identification.”

“What about us?” Willy asks, gesturing to himself and Naz.

Mo hums. “Get the team some coffee.”

Mitch can barely wait until they’re in the car when he says it. “This is some sort of punishment, isn’t it?”

Jake pauses getting the keys in the ignition. “What? This case?”

“No,” Mitch sighs. “Us being paired up.”

“Why would it be?” Jake asks in a tone that says he already knows what the fuck Mitch is going to say. Mitch indulges him nonetheless.

“Because I’m doing the interview,” Mitch says.

“Morgan told me about that,” Jake says casually. “That’s not it.”

“Oh, please,” Mitch rolls his eyes. “He’s mad I defied him.”

Jake laughs. “He could care less about that. But your personal life is clouding your judgment.”

“My personal life?” Mitch sputters.

“Whatever is going on between you and Matthews, stays out of the station,” Jake says.

Mitch stays silent and looks out the window.

“And Mitch,” Jake continues. “Don’t take everything so personal and just give up. Take it as a challenge, you know?”

“Thanks, I guess,” Mitch mutters. “And don’t worry, I’m not going to do the interview. It’s impossible to get promoted without a Sergeant or higher’s recommendation.

The rest of the ride is silent, and Mitch really doesn’t know where the fuck this is all coming from. Way to put a damper on his pretty good day.

Jake whistles, shaking Mitch from his thoughts. “Man, imagine getting a house here? Beauty.”

“For sure,” Mitch agrees. “Quiet neighbourhood, too.”

They turn into the driveway, and of fucking course, there’s a gate, and you need to buzz to get in, and Mitch can’t fucking believe they got robbed, with all this security. This might be hard to solve.

The husband, Mr. Green, makes Mitch and Jake a tea even after they’ve declined but Mitch doesn’t mind sipping on bitter water if it makes them feel better.

“So you said they wore masks,” Jake says with his notepad out. “But is there anything you can identify?”

“It was a woman and a man,” the wife, Mrs. Green, says.

“How could you tell?” Mitch asks.

“The height difference was significant,” Mrs. Green explains. “The woman had dirty blonde hair peeking out of her mask, right honey?”

Mr. Green nods in affirmation and Mitch mulls that information over. Are they dealing with a Bonnie and Clyde situation? Or young opportunists?

“Okay,” Jake closes his notebook. “We’re going to try our very best to solve this.”

Mrs. Green nods, visibly still shaken up.

“Is it okay if we check around the house?” Mitch asks.

“Do whatever it takes,” Mr. Green says.

“What are you thinking?” Mitch asks when he and Jake reach the front of the house.

“I think it was targeted,” Jake says.

“Money definitely wasn’t the goal,” Mitch agrees. “I don’t know, maybe fear?”

“But of what?” Jake says. “They got law enforcement involved.”

Mitch shrugs. “Let’s check around the back.”

The backyard and patio’s huge, and to Mitch’s surprise they still got people working back there given the circumstances. But that’s good for him and Jake.

“Hey,” Mitch says to the scattered group. “We’re detective Marner and Gardiner; we just wanted to ask a few questions about anything you might’ve seen in the past few weeks.”

The guys are talkative, discussing the many deliveries that have come in the last month, the children visiting more than usual, one daughter and one son, and they even heard fighting just this past weekend.

Mitch tries to write that all down but the slow but consistent movement in the corner of his eye is bothering him.

“Do you see that?” Mitch mutters, not looking up from his notepad.

“Yep,” Jake answers and then calls out, “Hey bud, where are you going? Don’t think your break’s up yet!”

There’s a pause, and then swift movement and Jake’s chasing after one of the landscapers. Mitch is glad it’s Jake because Mitch is honestly still sore from the gym routine he did the other day. Mitch walks over with his best intimidation look, a hand on his gun that’s sealed in its holster and a stern face.

Auston says he looks like a chipmunk with his mouth closed but whatever.

“I got him,” Jake says. “Just call in a squad car to collect him.”

“Great,” Mitch says.

  
Back at the station, the guy they caught running’s name is Stefan Marshall. The company he owns has been working for the Green’s for about six years, and he does work for other houses in the neighbourhood as well.

Auston and Mo are interviewing him, and Mitch stands behind the mirror with Jake and Willy. He’s a wreck already, and Mitch honestly can’t believe they caught their suspect this early. It’s like Christmas came early.

“Says here you have a bit of a record from your early twenties,” Mo says. “But you’ve stayed out of trouble for at least fifteen years.”

“He’s sweating like no man’s business,” Willy says. “Good job, guys.”

“Yeah,” Stefan says. “You’re not supposed to judge someone by their past.”

“Our bad,” Auston says, and Mitch can only see the back of his head, but he knows there’s humour in his voice. “But, dude, you ran away.”

“I have a criminal record,” Stefan says.

“Right,” Mo says. “But that doesn’t have to mean anything, right?”

“You guys, like, pick up guys with criminal records all the time,” Stefan says. “That’s why I ran.”

“How were my guys supposed to know you had a record, Stefan?” Mo asks.

“Really,” Stefan says, gesturing toward himself, tattoos and all.

“Wait, has this happened to you before?” Auston leans forward.

“No, but a couple of buddies from prison, profiling is no joke,” Stefan says.

“You’re right,” Mo says. “That’s not-- why we picked you up.”

“I know, but it’s why I ran,” Stefan says. “I swear I didn’t rob them. They’re like a family to me. They come to my daughter’s birthday parties all the time.”

“There are some real shitty cops in Toronto, man,” Auston says. “But, this squad, we’re good people, man.”

“Okay,” Stefan says. “I know who did it.”

“Why didn’t he say that before,” Jake groans.

“He was scared,” Mitch says. “But damn, this is valuable.”

“Tell us,” Mo says.

“The son and daughter, don’t have a good relationship with the Green’s,” Stefan says. “Mr. Green isn’t their biological dad, and he left them off his will.”

“Okay, anything else?”

“Last month, was the first time their daughter, visited in four years,” Stefan says. “She’s pregnant, now, a doctor, too. The son, I don’t know much about. He’s still in grad school, I think.”

“Huh,” Auston says. “Why do you think they’d do it?”

“Cozy up with the mom and dad beforehand, then a traumatic event occurs, and they’re there to comfort them, dad changes his mind about the will,” Stefan says.

“That’s… a good theory,” Willy says. “Why didn’t you two dumbos think of that?”

“We were getting there,” Mitch retorts.

+++

“Good job,” Mo says. “On catching the witness, of course, he did all the work for us.”

“Yay, witness,” Mitch cheers. “Sometimes they’re great.”

“Hey,” Mitch says to Auston while everyone is packing up. “I wanna talk to you about something.”

Auston frowns. “What’s up?”

“I’ll--um, let’s wait until we get outside,” Mitch smiles.

“Okay,” Auston says. “I’ll meet you at the front. Just got to make a call.”

Auston’s no longer than five minutes, patting Mitch on the shoulder to catch his attention. “Hey, sorry, I had to hang back and make a call.”

“To Freddie?” Mitch asks unexpectedly.

Auston gives Mitch a look that’s unreadable. “Yeah, actually. He called while I was in the interview room, just wanted to see what’s up.”

“Cool,” Mitch nods. “So are you guys like...official yet?”

“We’re taking it at a normal pace,” Auston shrugs. “It’s only been a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “It’d be easier if you guys were friends before, eh?”

“I’m not sure about that,” Auston says. Mitch guesses that’s his cue to move on from this awkward fucking conversation.

“So, Jake talked to me about us,” Mitch says.

Auston frowns. “Wait, what?”

“He thinks like, some factor in my life is interfering with my work or something,” Mitch laughs dryly. “BS, you know?”

“What’d you say about us?” Auston asks.

“Um, nothing?” Mitch says. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Auston blinks, doesn’t say anything and Mitch thinks that might be the wrong answer. But it’s the logical one, right? It was just sex, and now Auston’s sort of with Freddie from Hamilton. There’s nothing more to it, no matter how much Mitch wishes it were different.

“So, I guess we should go now,” Mitch says. “Unis are staring at us.”

“Yeah, okay,” Auston snorts. “Night, Marns.”

And okay, as Mitch’s watching Auston go, he’s getting the vibe that he’s pissed or something. And Mitch doesn’t fucking understand what the hell he said wrong. Yeah, he has a big ass mouth, but he’s definitely been more careful about the shit he says now. Even more careful about his gestures.

  
+++  
Auston has been avoiding Mitch for a while. Not obvious enough that anyone in the squad has pulled Mitchell aside to ask if he’s doing okay, but obvious enough that Mitch hasn’t gotten any photos of basketball players in suits and no stupid but charming notes on his desk. The only time they really talked for over three minutes was to solve the goddamn robbery case and Auston complaining about spoiled children and Mitch agreeing about that. But Mitch is okay with that, because it’s his fate.

“Bar tonight?” Willy asks Mitch. Mitch is currently trying to beat Reemer’s time of solving the Rubix cube while also avoiding writing up reports.

“I don’t know,” Mitch says. “I was thinking I’d play some 2k tonight.”

“Kapanen’s going to be coming out,” Willy says. “And, uh, Freddie, too.”

“Oh, Auston’s going?” Mitch asks. “So, I’m the last one invited?”

“No,” Willy rolls his eyes. “I haven’t invited the Sarge yet.”

“I’ll think about it,” Mitch says. “I might be busy tonight.”

Willy cocks his head. “You just said that you were going to play 2k tonight.”

“Don’t you have a case to write about?” Mitch asks.

“Come tonight,” Willy singsongs on his way back to his desk.

Mitch wants to, but he’s going to have to meet Freddie. It’s immature, of course, and Mitch needs to grow up a little. But he gets to see Willy and his future boyfriend interact, so like, it’s a win-lose situation. He’s going to go, of course.

The day goes by too fast, Auston leaves early because he’s gotta meet Freddie at his condo because Freddie needs to get approved for guest parking at Auston’s condo or something like that.

Mitch knows he’s got thirty minutes to go home and quickly shower before getting to the bar at 6:30 and he’s definitely going to make it. He can start drinking before Auston gets there. Obviously not too much, it’s a Thursday night but enough that he has enough confidence to dance in the middle of the bar.

The bar’s full of course, it’s a Thursday night, and there are university and college students there, even though on any other day most people at this bar are over the age of twenty-five. Willy has managed to round up two tables for the group, and he’s there with Kapanen, they’re sharing nachos, and this basically saved Mitch’s night.

“Hello, lovebirds,” Mitch says, pulling out a chair for himself. Willy rolls his eyes, and Mitch grins.

“Long time no see, Marner,” Kasperi says.

“Kappy,” Mitch claps Kasperi’s shoulder. “No overtime, tonight?”

“I finished my over time for the month,” Kasperi says.

Mitch raises a brow. “You work hard.”

“Just trying to spend as much time as I can with Willy, you know,” Kasperi says, trying to go for casual but there’s a light blush on his cheeks. Mitch is glad he didn’t stay home tonight.

“I’m gonna go get Auston, he’s outside,” Willy says.

When Mitch sees Freddie, his first impression of him is that he looks like he’s got a permanent frown on his face. It’s quite intimidating. The second thing is, he’s very tall. The third is that the way he’s staring at Mitch makes Mitch feel like he’s done something wrong. He and Auston take a seat next to Mitch, and God it’s like the universe never puts Mitch’s feelings into perspective.

Freddie doesn’t drink, for personal reasons and that’s more beer for Mitch, of course.

When Auston gets up for the bathroom, Freddie leans into Mitch. “Auston told me a lot about you.”

“Oh, okay,” Mitch says. “Good things, I hope.”

“Definitely,” Freddie says. “I’m just surprised that I haven’t met you sooner, considering you guys are best friends.”

Mitch frowns. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“I mean,” Freddie shrugs. “You haven’t been hanging out much with him. Makes him sad, you know.”

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but if he wants to say something about that to me, I’m right here.”

Freddie opens his mouth, then closes it. He smiles. “I’m not trying to imply anything; I’m just--”

“What are you guys talking about?” Auston asks.

“Not much,” Freddie says. “Just saying we should all hang out. Trying to figure what Mitch and I have in common.”

Auston taps his chin, feigning thinking it over. “You’re both _super_ boring.”

“Hey,” Freddie says. “Didn’t I watch the whole season of Narcos with you? And not complain once?”

“That was nice of you,” Auston agrees.

Freddie smiles, very soft and all and he looks like he’s about to kiss Auston so Mitch turns his head to Willy and Kappy who are both in deep conversation and it doesn’t seem like Mitch is invited.

Now he wants to go home. The beer sucks, and he hates being single.

He doesn’t feel too bad about the sad face Willy makes, or that Naz said he was going to buy everyone a round of shots and that Mitch shouldn’t leave, he needs a ten-hour sleep, and he can definitely get it if goes home right now.

+++  
The next week at work is slow again. It’s just Auston and Mitch in the office, and it seems that neither of them is doing work.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” Mitch says. Mo invited the team out to brunch but Mitch stayed back to do some work, and conveniently, Auston decided to as well. He doesn’t know if Auston’s using that to make an opening for them to talk or something. Auston’s face is in his phone but Mitch can see him raising his brows.

“Have I?” Auston asks flatly.

He looks like he hasn’t gotten any fucking sleep for the past five days and Mitch kind of wants to know what’s going on.

“Yes,” Mitch says. “What did I do to you?”

“I was respecting your wishes,” Auston says. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I have not,” Mitch says.

“Ever since I started seeing Freddie, it was like you lost interest in me,” Auston says. “You don’t think you did that?”

“I was trying to back off,” Mitch says, but now he’s unsure of what the fuck is happening. “If you interpreted it as me not wanting to be your friend, then I’m sorry.”

“Freddie broke up with me,” Auston says.

Mitch freezes. “Does he think--”

Auston laughs. “Don’t worry he didn’t think I was still sleeping with you.”

“Why did he-?” Mitch asks. “You two looked happy last week.”

“I’m in love with you,” Auston says. “And I told Freddie a while ago, he knew, but he thought he could be okay with seeing me while I got over you, or tried to get over you, I guess.”

Mitch is silent. Auston continues. “I don't blame him. I’m surprised he actually continued a relationship with me.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“Fuck, I know that,” Auston snaps. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Mitch feels faint. “I wish you would’ve told me.”

Auston shrugs. “I’m telling you, now.”

Mitch wishes they were in a setting where he was comfortable, like his goddamn couch with a reality tv show playing in the background.

“I have feelings for you, too,” Mitch says. “But I didn’t think you liked me back.”

“All you do is talk about not wanting a relationship, what am I supposed to think?”

“I didn’t find out I had these feelings until like two months ago,” Mitch explains. “It’s dumb. I know. I didn’t say anything; I avoided you because I thought it was what fate was telling me to do.”

“Fuck fate,” Auston says. “You should choose to love someone, Mitch. Especially if not doing the opposite is going to make you sad.”

“I was thinking about what you deserve,” Mitch says. “I was trying to be selfless for once.”

“Stop being selfless,” Auston says stern. “Let yourself love. Let yourself be loved.”

Mitch stands up. “Maybe I want you to love me.”

Auston quirks his mouth. “Maybe?”

“Maybe,” Mitch nods. “Let’s take a personal day. And like, fuck, go on a date or something. Something that’s not our couches.”

“Mo will know,” Auston warns.

“He’ll be happy that the chip on my shoulder is gone,” Mitch says.

“Okay,” Auston says after a second. He grabs his coat, and doesn’t even bother cleaning up his desk. It’s amazing how fast he moves when he’s in a good mood.

“Should we go for dessert,” Mitch suggests.

“Why don’t we go to mine,” Auston says. “Where it’s warm, and I don’t have to walk five minutes to a restaurant because Toronto parking sucks.”

Mitch looks at Auston. “What if I want to go slow?”

“I didn’t say anything about sex,” Auston smirks.

“Are you really going to deprive me of it?” Mitch asks. “Like seriously?”

“Of course not,” Auston says. “I can be selfish too, you know.”

+++

“More punch?” Mitch teases. It’s non-alcoholic, but this is Auston’s third time going back to the food table. Auston’s wearing an ugly bright red sweater with a cartoon Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on the front, to match with Mitch’s green Frosty the Snowman sweater. Auston had lost the guess how many jellybeans are in the jar game by a landslide and in consequence, had to wear the sweater. Of course, because Mitch is the best boyfriend ever he _had_ to get a sweater to match.

It’s their precinct’s Christmas party, and Auston and Mitch went together, apparently to no one’s surprise, because Naz shouted ‘ _fucking finally_ ’ and god Mitch was kind of embarrassed that everyone was aware of their love-angst.

“It’s good,” Auston murmurs. “Who made it?”

“Probably our receptionist,” Mitch shrugs. “Or someone went to Loblaws’ and picked it up. You know, adult things.”

“For sure,” Auston says. “Never cooking, always eating out.”

“Do you want to come home with me tonight?” Mitch asks, resting a hand on Auston’s lower back.

“I don’t know,” Auston sighs. “What am I going to get in return?”

Mitch scoffs. “Well, I was going to put out, but since you expected it, I won’t do it, now.”

“I doubt that,” Auston says.

“Well--”

“Mistletoe!” someone screams.

Mitch is confused for all two seconds before he notices an actual mistletoe hanging above his head, but barely above Austons (Willy’s short, too, okay).

“This means we have to kiss,” Mitch says matter-of-factly.

“I hate PDA,” Auston complains, but there’s a small smile on his face. “Don’t make me do this.”

There’s no actually heat behind it, and Mitch, of course, knows that Auston means _let’s show everyone_. He puts his arm around Auston’s neck to bring him down to connect their lips. It’s a quick, chaste thing, and Mitch’s face is hot.

“So much for taking it slow,” Mitch mutters.

“I don’t do slow.”

Not what he fantasized about, kissing your boyfriend in an itchy sweater by the punch table. But it’s still pretty great.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ~~a character may display depressive behaviour but does not get treatment nor acknowledges that he is experiencing it!!~~
> 
> twitter: @jootyjorts
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated!


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